


i wait for you on and on

by joatlas



Category: Star Trek: Discovery, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Exes, F/F, Feels, Possibly Unrequited Love, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:15:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25537168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joatlas/pseuds/joatlas
Summary: Post DSC Season 1. Discovery stops at a starbase and Michael organizes a reception for a Vulcan delegation, including T'Pring, with whom she used to be in love. These old feelings resurface and mix with her current unrequited crush for her friend Tilly.
Relationships: Michael Burnham/Sylvia Tilly, Michael Burnham/T'Pring
Comments: 9
Kudos: 29
Collections: Starfleet Gang





	1. trying

“So you want me to organize a party?” Michael lifted an eyebrow, folding her arms together, right in front of Saru’s desk.  
“Not a party. A reception.” He specified, and hearing her small sigh added. “It’s important, we are going to be in Starbase Seven’s orbit, some delegates and diplomats are going to be here. Most of all we need to boost crew morale.”  
“Saru, you know this is not my… field of expertise.”

That was to say the least. Everything too… social was not really her thing. She felt better out on the field or doing research. 

“Neither is it mine. I’ll grant you some ensigns to help.”  
“Why me?”  
“Well, if you must know, a good portion of these important guests from the base are going to be Vulcan. Five high-ranking Vulcan diplomats and researchers. Needless to say I need you to make sure they feel at ease.”  
“As if I’ve ever made Vulcans feel at ease.” She eye-rolled.  
“Michael.” He said gently yet sternly.  
“Fine, you can count on me.”  
“Ok so, I’ll quickly go over the Vulcan guest list so you’re aware. T’Pal, Vulcan Ambassador for Bolia, Safok, head of Applied Biology at the Science Academy, T’Pring, she’s head of the Literature Academy.” Michael flinched. “Then Lorek and T’Mal are both High-Ranking Vulcan Council officials. There will be delegates from other planets too. I have sent the full list to your personal PADD. Anyone you know?”  
“I…”

Moonlight embraces she hadn’t thought about in a long time. Fingers intertwined. The faint sound of a harp. Red hills and purple flowers.

“I do know T’Pring, yes.”  
“That doesn’t sound very good.”

Her tone had been strange she had to admit. 

“It’s a family thing. She’s my brother’s fiancée. Long story.”

It’s not that Michael didn’t want to explain it to Saru, it’s simply that she wouldn’t have known where to start, really. She simply excused herself away from his office and hurried to her room to get some space to think. 

Not everyday that you get to throw a party on a starship with all your friends and your… ex? Was that the term? It seemed so trivial.

Michael immediately went to the small pile of her clothes. Her hand stopped as usual on the emerald green ceremony scarf she had kept. It was embroidered with a quote in Vulcan “One cannot discover new lands without consenting to lose sight of the shore.”. Knowing T’Pring and her fascination for obscure authors it was probably a quote from someone Michael wouldn’t know of. She had always hated this gift. It was beautiful, yet, the quote said it all, the handful of words said more than T’Pring had ever said to her. Forget me, it meant. Go away and forget me.

It had all been a mess. 

“Michael?”

She jumped with surprise. Tilly stood there with a smile on her face.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to startle you. Everything okay, you look weird?”  
“Yes, everything’s okay.” Michael quickly answered, putting away the scarf discreetly.  
“I heard you have to plan the party for the delegates.”  
“Wow.”  
“Word spread fast on a starship.” Tilly laughed. “It’s funny that Saru asked you.”  
“Funny?” Michael turned around as Tilly was sitting on the bed and looked at her strangely. “What’s funny?”  
“Oh no I’m sorry I wasn’t being… It’s just that you’re… You’re not like…”  
“Not fun?”  
“You’re fun! Just not like… party fun?”

Tilly’s entire face was twisted, visibly trying to say what she meant in a nice way that Michael would handle well. Well, Michael knew exactly what she was finding hard to say, it had been her first thought, but her friend was so cute when she was embarrassed. She had to admit she had played along a little to make it last. 

“I know, Tilly. I told him, but he wants me to help with the Vulcan delegation.”  
“Do Vulcans have parties?”  
“Well. They… we do recognize the importance of receptions when it comes to building relationships with people sharing similar interests and intellectual pursuits as your own, though dinners with a small number of guests are preferred, it happens that receptions are organized for important occasions and they do include traditional music and occasionally other artistic displays such as poetry readings.”  
“You always scare me when you start talking like this.” She always said this jokingly, with a hint of tenderness, so Michael knew she didn’t really mean that she was scared. “Anyways, tell me if you need my help. I’m… not the best with parties either, but I do know some things.”

Tilly’s smile was genuine, heart-warming, and had been sometimes in these last few weeks Michael’s only light in the dark. Her stomach went fuzzy when she smiled at her and they were alone like this, and she wished she could say something. 

“Thank you… I hope I can manage.”

She just gave her a small smile back.

The “party” planning had gone fine. Michael’s actual job had been to manage the excitement of the Ensigns Saru had sent to help her, from wanting a chocolate fountain to someone insisting they perform ritual dancing from their home planet. She did not wish for anything extravagant, had to be elegant, as simple as possible for everyone. She had managed to get different musicians that could perform some music from all the cultures of the different diplomats, notably a vulcan lyre player. She was mean to the Ensigns though, they had been useful to test all the food for the buffet and also decide on decoration, something that was very hard to do for Michael. 

Finally, the day of the reception had arrived. Michael had thought about putting on reception Vulcan robes, or more precisely the emerald robe. She’d really hated herself for thinking about it and thinking that was a good idea for a second. Hello T’Pring, here’s my outfit from when I left far away and its assorted breakup scarf you gave me. She didn’t care about T’Pring anyways, it was all water under the bridge. She loved Stonn anyways, not her. Water under the bridge.

So Michael entered the reception in Starfleet-issued dress uniform, her hair nicely put and hand already sweaty from anxiety of having to be locked up in a room to socialize for hours. She scanned the room immediately, looking for familiar faces.

She didn’t know everyone on the ship. She did try to show up to social events like this one, and she did enjoy them sometimes, after the initial Vulcan stiffness wore off. Well, it wasn’t only that. Michael sometimes felt like other people on the ship, that she wasn’t close to, were scared of her. She didn’t know if it was the Vulcan thing, or her past in prison, or how she had acted these past few months with everything, the Klingons, the Mirror Universe, or maybe it was about Ash… More likely it was a blend of all of these things. The boldest ones went to her and asked a few questions before feeling a little rebuffed by her coldness in answering, since yes she would have preferred for them to ask her what’s her favourite book rather than how to Vulcan pinch an enemy. The others just kept their distance. 

It wasn’t this way for Sylvia, who Michael suddenly saw somewhere near the music stage laughing loudly in the company of a woman with a bronze-accented uniform. She made friends, she talked to people, she had been shy at first but then the events had given her newfound confidence in herself and in the people that surrounded her. Michael had seen this shift in her and it made her smile. The same one had happened to her, in a different way, thanks to Tilly partly. 

Michael smiled because of the way Tilly’s whole face curved when she laughed, and how shiny her eyes were, and how she had tried to tame her hair on the side with a few hair clips but they had already started to lose the battle against her hair and one was almost falling down a strand of her hair. She was beautiful and Michael just stayed there watching her. Even though Sylvia appeared confident, she could see the twitch of her hand from time to time, the slight tension in the corner of her mouth, something about the dark-haired engineer made her nervous. Well, she was pretty too, cool, relaxed, very dark almost black lipstick, beautiful braids with pops of colour. 

“That’s Naima Lasmar from the engineering lower decks.” Stamets said quietly.

Michael had barely heard him arrive next to her, even his perfume smelled a lot. Well, she really had been staring too much, hadn’t she? She just said “Hmm” in response, not really any idea what to say. 

“You can go talk with them you know.” He added. 

Almost as he said this, in perfect timing, Stamets and her both watched as Naima touched Tilly’s hand slightly and said something that left the two women silent for a few seconds, before Tilly’s cheeks turned red. Suddenly, Michael’s chest felt so heavy that she turned around, pretending to go towards the buffet to get some food. Jealousy was a ridiculous feeling, she had nothing to be jealous about, it’s not like Sylvia knew how she felt, it’s not like she’d say anything, and the engineer seemed fine. Well, not fine, she was perfect, beautiful and slightly scary, taller, open and gentle, with a lot of humour, all of the things the Ensign had said were her type, several times. All the things Michael wasn’t. 

She stood in front of the buffet and stared at a pile of tiny sandwiches. All she could think about was that hot afternoon in 2248. 

The cruel, cruel suns shining on the surrounding mountains. The quiet garden in which she went to read, think, work. 

T’Pring standing there on the ledge, far away from her, once again. Inaccessible, her tanned skin shining under the sun, her robes light around her hips and shoulders. 

The interaction had all been very quick, but still, Michael remembered every detail after all of these years. Stonn had come up from the stairs to the garden, the fabric of his tunic tight against his developed muscles. He had saluted her, said a few words. They had lowered their voices for a moment. He had then brushed his fingers against hers, and she had reciprocated, with the slightest of smile, and then he’d left without any other word. 

The hurt had been different this time. Michael’s admiration of T’Pring was that of a first love : all-encompassing, exaggerated, full of hopes and daydreams. Impossible too, and in the most terrible of ways. She did feel for her, understand, because Spock wasn’t… He would never love her in such a way in any case. But had she hoped that she would be the one taking his place? Way too many times. 

And suddenly, with a brush of fingers, all she hoped for was gone. 

She had gone to T’Pring and that conversation was also still in her mind, clear as day. 

“You have seen us.” she had remarked.  
“Yes, I have.” Michael’s lips were tightly pressed.  
“I will not ask you to lie on our behalf, however I will advise you to consider your course of action and their repercussions carefully. I value our friendship and our conversations deeply, Michael.”

Michael knew that her brother needed T’Pring, and this marriage, for his reputation, to be a real Vulcan, to be a real man to all of them. With or without Stonn in the equation, it would’ve been a masquerade anyways. But that didn’t matter, to her. 

“Do you love him?”

Michael trembled slightly. She was asking that when all she really wanted to ask was “Do you love me?”. 

“Love is illogical. Our pairing is efficient and well-functional. We connect on spiritual and physical levels. Unlike…”  
“I know. I know.”

T’Pring had seemed to slightly soften. As if she was surprised by that. Everyone in the family and close to them knew Spock was gay. Except Sarek perhaps. And even then, Michael doubted that. 

“I simply…”

Michael wanted to say it. Your face is all I see when I close my eyes, T’Pring. I have already selected the house we could own together, the one slightly up on the western hill. I have thought about the feeling of my lips against your neck too many times to count. When we sit and discuss all afternoon about the state of the world, there is nowhere else in the galaxy I would wish to be. It was ridiculous. She was inadequate, she was flawed, she was Human and she was nothing T’Pring wanted. There was nothing to say. 

“Stonn is adequate indeed.”

And it would be the same thing she would say when Tilly would burst into their quarters with the biggest smile on her face telling her she had a date with the engineer. Something like “She’s great, I’m so happy for you.”. And she would be, she would be. 

Michael’s eyes were still stuck on the tiny sandwiches, and Paul had left her to her thoughts, respectfully so. 

She stayed there until she saw a familiar hand pick up one of the sandwiches. 

“Michael! I’ve been looking for you everywhere! Are you having fun??” Sylvia asked, before starting to munch on her food.

It was kind of her. She knew Michael had a hard time with these occasions, came to check on her.

“It’s a beautiful reception.” She said, neutral.  
“It is, right? We haven’t had time to relax since… everything. Feels nice. Like everything’s back to normal, a little. Even though some people are…” Sylvia sighed. “Are you completely sure you’re okay? You were staring at this pile of sandwiches as if you were about to attack them.” She laughed. “If the sandwiches were mean to you, I’ll fight them!!”

Michael chuckled faintly and Tilly almost snorted while laughing. God, she cared for her so much. She turned her gaze towards the redhead, a slight smile on the verge of appearing on her lips. 

“You were making new friends, that’s good.” Michael commented. 

Tilly’s face became entirely red in the span of a second. 

“Yeah.” She said, suddenly shy and quiet. 

You could always see where her soft heart was touched. 

“You should too.” She added.

Michael knew her friend was right. But T’Pring, Tyler, Tilly, it all hurt too much to love people that couldn’t love her back.

“I should, yes.”  
“You’re thinking about him, right?” 

_I’m not, I’m thinking about you._ Michael stared at her intensely. Tily made a pouting face. 

“I’m so sorry, I know we’ve talked about it, I didn’t want to bring it up again.”  
“I’m not… I… We’re done. Ash and I.”  
“Yeah, yeah, but I know how it is...” She furrowed her brows. “Hmm. I don’t actually. I’ve never had…”  
“A boyfriend who was actually a violent Klingon who got into a crazy rage and assassinated your friend.”

Michael actually cackled at this but only because she wasn’t sure how to process that otherwise. Tilly looked at her and smiled, couldn’t laugh, perhaps didn’t want to be complicit in Michael’s deflection tactics. 

“I just meant… a boyfriend, girlfriend, whatever...”  
“I know that is what you meant.”

Tilly was now overlooking the buffet again.

“Do you want chocolate cake?”

She was interrupted by Saru coming near them.

“Michael, can I borrow you? The Vulcan guests are about to arrive, I’d like you to be there when we greet them.”  
“Of course.” 

She said that in the most professional tone possible, even though her heart was racing. T’Pring. Any minute. And all these feelings, unfinished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the title is from human sadness by the voidz and also i'm sorry if the pacing of this chapter is a bit strange, i actually mixed two fics i started together because i couldn't finish either of them and thought they would work together. this fic will be short (4 chapters max? i think?) but i needed to post it to motivate myself to finish it ahah.


	2. resigning

Michael was never afraid of anything. Ever since Klingons had crossed her doorstep on that fateful day, she had been unable to come close to such fear. Regardless, chills did go down her spine as T’Pring walked in her direction accompanied by Saru, and they were certainly not of excitement. She was intimidating as ever, or more even perhaps with age. The years had given her a newfound authority, and where once stood a certain fire of youth and rebellion, full of hopes, french poetry and flower metaphors, now presided instead the astuteness and seriousness of order and maturity. In some ways the same could be said of Michael, at least in the way she currently stood in front of the Vulcan. T’Pring did not show any sign, it was as if she didn’t recognize her, even though they both knew she did. 

“Commander Burnham.”

It was customary of course, but this absence of first name hurt Michael more than she’d admit. 

“T’Pring. We are honoured to receive you on board Discovery.”

The Vulcan nodded but did not say anything further, which prompted Saru to come stand between the two of them. Michael did not eye him to persuade him to avoid the subject because he did not know it was critical. 

“I trust the Commander and you know each other well, which is why I have given her the responsibility of welcoming you here.” 

A pause. T’Pring glared at Michael. As if Michael had said anything about their very personal history, as if keeping secrets about everything wasn’t one of the worst traits her upbringing on Vulcan had given her. Why Saru did not say sister-in-law or something was beyond her. Michael cleared her throat. 

T’Pring was exaggerating, it wasn’t as if they’d been lovers, really. What could Michael have told her Captain? What was there even to tell?

“I will let you enjoy some of the reception, there will be speeches by some of the guests, the list has been sent to you earlier.”  
“Yes, I am aware of that document.”

Talking in Standard with her felt strange to Michael, the only time they ever did so was when they used to “hang out”, well, that meant study together for Vulcans, at Michael’s house, so she could pretend she did not speak Vulcan very well, even though everyone knew she was fluent at this point. It was basically all her family ever did, pretend not to know things. 

“Good.” Michael replied sternly. 

And as T’Pring’s disregard for her started to weigh heavy on her heart, she added : 

“Any news from ShiKahr? How is Stonn?” 

Her tone was firm and commanding. Did not intimidate the Vulcan, but she did frown. 

“I do not believe that is of your concern, Commander.”

Michael did not know what she expected T’Pring to say really, and why she was so disappointed. Not for her to kiss her on the cheeks and say “oh Michael I missed you so dearly”, or cry, that was ludacris. No, perhaps just a gentle Michael, a masked compliment, anything to hold on to. 

They were about to part ways in aggressive silence when Sylvia came running towards Michael and Saru. She seemingly was about to speak really fast to Michael but when she saw T’Pring, she straightened her back and gave her a stern Vulcan salute and the greeting that came along with it. She could’ve stopped there but seemed to get anxious and panic a little and decided to bow to T’Pring, inclining her head down for a little too long. Michael could not help but chuckle, and Saru smirked, as the gesture was a bit too much, even for a head of an Academy. T’Pring sneered at her but she didn’t know if it was disregard for the ensign or for her laughing. Most likely both. 

“It is an honor.” Tilly said, before she turned to Michael to whisper in her ear. “Michael, we have a problem with the two Andorian guests, they don’t like the food, they keep complaining.”

Michael rolled her eyes. Not what she signed up into Starfleet for really. But she welcomed the distraction. 

“Excuse me.” She politely indicated before following Tilly to the trio of Andorians. 

“Apologies.” Saru added when he found himself alone with the Vulcan.   
As she left, Michael tried not to look back. 

_____________

Later that day, when Michael was supposed to go back to her quarters and get some rest before another day of receptions and polite discussion, she instead went to a remote part of the ship to look at the stars and think. She also was afraid to go back to her quarters. She was afraid to find Tilly there with Naima, or afraid to find her bed was empty and wonder all night if she was with the Ensign or somewhere else. Despite her best efforts to refrain, she had taken a look at Naima’s file with her access codes, and found out she had requested a transfer and promotion recently to a larger ship. And there it was again, the dread to be abandoned. Again. 

Except when she entered the quiet and half-dark observation deck, there was T’Pring, standing in front of the window quietly like an old statue in a temple somewhere. Michael’s heart skipped a beat and she was tempted to turn around but already T’Pring’s head had slightly moved, she’d heard her. 

Michael took in a breath and quietly walked in her direction, stopping at a safe distance, looking at the stars. 

“I was expecting some peace and quiet.” She said.   
“As was I.”

Michael smiled. She could feel tension in T’Pring’s voice.

“I hope you are aware that all I told Saru was that you were my brother’s fiancée.”  
“Certainly.” 

T’Pring’s answer made it seem like she was offended by the question, but clearly, she could feel relief in her voice. She knew how to read Vulcans better than anyone, after all. 

“I never managed to repair the hoverbike.” Michael suddenly said out of the blue. 

Well, not completely out of the blue. She was thinking of the day they’d broken it. How T’Pring had held her so she wouldn’t fall off. They were just teenagers, and probably T’Pring would now deny having ever done something so degrading as riding on the back of a hoverbike. It was Sybok’s. A sunny day not long after he had gone. 

“He was a better mechanical engineer than I am.” Michael chuckled. 

T’Pring had lost a hairpin and her dark hair was flowing behind her. Her fingers gripping at the fabric of Michael’s Academy uniform. Michael was laughing and T’Pring wasn’t even making a judgmental face. She was smiling too. They were just teenagers. 

“Speaking of such things is irregular.”  
She meant mentioning Sybok but did she also mean that day on the bike? She did. Surely. 

“Just you and me here T’Pring.”

Michael had said that with a dismissive, very laid back tone that felt very human, different from the Michael the Vulcan had known, and her childhood friend retracted slowly. 

“Listen.” Michael started again. “If you’re staying here with me, it is because there is something on your mind, not because you just wish for the pleasure of my company.”  
“Indeed, I was wondering if you had talked to Spock recently, if he…”

Michael made a gesture of her hand, stopping her.

“No.”  
“You did not speak to him.”  
“I will not comfort you on how soon or far away it is that you boyfriend will have the opportunity to murder my brother thank you.”  
“It is not what I…”  
“Not the coy act. Please..” Michael said, before she added softly. “It is never about me, I am never on your mind, that much I know.”

She retreated slowly and started to walk back to the hallway. 

“You were.” T’Pring said, loud enough that she could hear it still as she left. “You were.”

__________

Thankfully, Michael arrived to find her quarters empty. She started to prepare to sleep and was reading peacefully when a mass of hair stormed inside of the room, and in the middle of the red tornado, flushed cheeks, and a smile. 

“Michael, ah.” She blurted out, as if surprised her roommate was there. “How was your evening?”  
“I think I should be the one asking that question.”

Tilly sat on her bed and looked at her with stars in her eyes.

“She’s so cool. She’s a quantum physics nerd??? And she’s obsessed with cowboy movies and we’re gonna watch some sometimes. And she’s so pretty?? Like what does she see in me? I don’t know but she said she liked me and she kissed me on the cheek and we’re going together at the second reception. And she’s best friends with Roman, you know that guy that works with Stamets and he seems scary, apparently he’s cool? She kissed me. On the cheek, but you know. I’ve never felt this…”  
“Euphoric?” Michael raised an eyebrow.  
“Yeah, that.”  
Tilly retreated further on the bed so she could rest her back on the wall. She was slightly inebriated but not enough that it worried Michael just, a little happier than usual. 

“Always loved girls, always been afraid of them.” Tilly said in a philosophical tone of voice, chuckling to herself. 

Michael forced a little laugh too, but her mind was replaying T’Pring’s icy stare. She still couldn’t believe that she tried to ask her about Spock and his… thing. That it was all she wanted to talk to her about and nothing else. 

“They _are_ scary. You wouldn’t know. But they are.” Tilly laughed. 

It wasn’t dismissive, or mean, it was just an affirmation. Michael never talked about anything. She had assumed… Well Michael had always talked about homosexuality as something foreign to her, because it was, there was just T’Pring, and it was long ago, and it had slowly lost meaning to her before she met Tilly and before she heard her laugh at her joke for the first time. 

“And what if I did know.” she said to her friend, a sudden light in her eyes

The next day, or few hours, were the last where she could tell Tilly how she felt without making a mess. But what was the use? A stunning, happy, thriving engineer that made her laugh and kissed her gently, that was all Sylvia needed, not her, not this broken shadow of a person that always ran into trouble to save everyone. Michael did not sit down to watch movies, go on dates, share personal things, she was just running always. And that day of receptions had made her realize that. She had not had such a non-eventful day in the longest time. 

“You never said…” Tilly frowned.

Her hallmark, never saying things. A nice gift from her adoptive family. She panicked.

“Forget it.”

She picked up her PADD again and went back to her previous reading position. 

“It’s okay, I am not go-”  
“I know it is okay, I simply don’t want to talk about it.”  
“I’m sorry.”

It wasn’t so much discussing her bisexuality as risking slipping up, saying the wrong thing, feeling an urge to take her hand and kiss her. 

_I’m not what she needs. I can’t become that._

It all was a circle she needed to break.   
“Good night.” she said after a while in the darkened quarters, her PADD down on the bedside table.  
“Good night, Michael.”

As she was falling asleep Michael tried to remember the exact feeling of the wind against her cheeks as she biked across the mountains, T’Pring’s arms tight against her waist. The memory was distant and muddled, drifting more and more away everytime she reached for it, drowned into other painful, violent memories. Maybe she should wear the green scarf tomorrow.


End file.
